A Few Minutes
by Psalm 136
Summary: Will and Elizabeth need a few minutes together before they're forever separated by marriage. I do not own anything. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Its What We Do Best

_My first PotC fic. Be nice, won't ya?_

Elizabeth Swann sat in front of a large mirror in the back of the church, in the beautiful wedding gown, custom-tailored to her specific form. She struggled to breathe in the extremely tight corset she was forced to endure as she fanned herself. She reached up her other hand and touched her mother's earrings that her father had given to her to wear that day. She smiled at her reflection. She did look rather stunning, as her father had told her quite enthusiastically that morning. Her father was quite the endearing man. He could be frustrating at times, but she loved him nonetheless.

Her heart was skipping with the normal wedding nerves as there came a knock on the door. She hoped to God that it was her bridesmaids coming to tell her it was time to go. She was very nervous and her nerves took up so much of her heart that she didn't have much room left for excitement. Of course she was excited to get married, but her heart ached. She got up and opened the door, revealing Will Turner.

"Will!" Elizabeth cried with happiness. "Oh, I'm so glad you came." She, defying all rules of propriety, embraced him.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." Will said, holding her for a moment. He watched her sit down and moved into the room, closing the door behind him. "You look…" He shook his head, not finding any words to describe her.

"What?" She asked, an undertone of bitterness lacing her voice. "What, Will?" She asked tenderly.

"Beautiful." He finished, a small smile gracing his lips. He suddenly fell silent, looking at the floor.

To Elizabeth's eye, she had never seen him look more fabulous. He was dressed up and his hair was combed back in a ponytail, yet something wasn't right. He acted as he had before their adventure with Jack. He was very humble and shy in her presence and she didn't like him that way. She remembered with fervor how he had touched her face and held her hand and she stood up. She walked over to him and put a hand on his arm.

"What is it, Will?" She asked him, looking up into his dark brown eyes, full of mystery and hidden agony that so very well matched her own.

"I love you." He said softly. "You know I have, and yet you are marrying Norrington. I am not one to contest an oath you swore, but…" He took a deep breath. "You should be marrying me. I know its selfish, but…"

"Its true. I should be marrying you." Elizabeth agreed. "If fate could have its way, I wouldn't be talking to you right now and you'd be waiting for me at the altar. But I thought I was doing the right thing in promising to marry Norrington to save you. But I'm glad I did. You're here with me."

"Yet… this is as close as we shall ever be." Will added quietly. "You soon shall be married."

"Indeed." Elizabeth's eyes were full of tears as she looked at his pensive face. She let her hand drop to her side as she averted her gaze.

Will took her hands in his and caught her gaze and kept it with his own. "But a few minutes is all we need. Then we can go out there and start acting… its what we do best."


	2. I know

William Turner walked back into the church, discreetly wiping a tear as he sat down. He sat in the last pew of the church, accompanied by the one and only Jack Sparrow. Indeed, it had been Jack's idea for Will to see Elizabeth before the wedding and Will was glad he had taken the pirate's advice for once. His heart ached as he sat there, looking up at Commodore Norrington, and he was jealous. He was envious of this man who was lucky enough to get to spend the rest of his miserable life.

"Welcome back, William." Jack said, nodding towards the young man. "How did your meeting go with Miss Elizabeth?" He inquired, sitting back in the pew and propping his foot up on the slot where a Bible was currently resting.

"Good." Was all the information he supplied as he fell into his own thoughts and inner anguish.

Suddenly, the wedding music started up, supplied by a string quartet, and everyone rose. Will searched for Elizabeth through the crowd of people that impeded his view. However, she was searching for him as well and she sent him an eternally sad smile before putting her joyful one back in its place as she faced all of her family and friends. Will smiled to himself. At least he still had that over Norrington. William Turner would always be the keeper of Elizabeth's heart, even if he had to keep it from afar.

Will and Jack sat down as the minister bid the congregation to, and the wedding began.

"If there is anyone who would contest this union, please speak now, or forever hold your peace." There was a moment of tense silence until the minister continued and bid Norrington to speak his vows.

"Elizabeth, I love you…"

Jack turned to Will and leaned over, still keeping his eyes on the commodore. "You know, if you were looking for it, that was the opportune moment." He whispered.

Will sighed, looking down. "I know."


	3. What Hurts the Most

_This is part three… but wait, there's more._

Forty-three-year-old William Turner brought the hammer down onto the piece of metal he was working out to be a sword with tremendous force. Though he was clearly aging, his arms had not lost their strength and his fingers had not lost their skill. He was not well known, but those who knew of his skill and prowess with a hammer and anvil would never ask another for items to be made. He grunted as he put the metal into the nearby barrel of cool water. He judged by the ache in his arms that he needed a rest.

He put the hammer down, out of the way, and sat down against the wall. He looked down at his calloused hands with a sigh. He hated needing breaks, because it was then that his mind wandered. He hadn't slept much on Elizabeth's wedding night. Come to think of it, he hadn't slept that well for almost twenty years. He let his exhaustion get the best of him and he fell asleep, his head bowed.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. There Jack Sparrow stood, a sword in his tanned hand. He looked the same as he always did, dreadlocks, kohl on his face, the same crooked smirk. Will Turner stood up with a groan, brushing off his backside. He gave the pirate a small smile.

"Jack Sparrow. I can't believe it." Will said, clearing his throat. "It's been, what, ten years? Where have you been?"

Jack swaggered over to the anvil and touched it experimentally, pulling his finger away when he found it was hot. He pulled out a handy bottle of rum and offered it to Will and when it was rejected, he took a large draught. He smacked his lips and turned to the blacksmith.

"I've been in the market, as they say. Something about a treasure that wasn't real. Anamaria wasn't happy at all." He said in his signature cryptic, and yet drunken, manner. "What of you? How have you been holding up?"

Will ran his hand over the head of his new donkey, for the other one died four years previous. He touched the handle of one of his many swords and sighed. "I still miss her. I've been working almost nonstop for twenty years, trying to get her off of my mind, and yet, whenever I pause for a moment, images of her and what could have been with us…" He raked a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Really, mate, you've got to let her go. Truth of the matter is, she's married to bloody Norrington. Nothing you can do about it." Jack waved his hands around. "I know you loved her, but death till they part is a long time to wait."

"But I've waited thirty years. I'm very good at being patient." Will replied, defeated. He was not used to being defeated. There was always a small, foolish, youthful part of him that kept his hope locked up in a cage, but the hope had finally died and burnt out, and he was left feeling cold and helpless. "I love her, Jack, and it refuses to die simply because she's married."

Jack patted him awkwardly on the back, holding out the bottle of rum to Will once more. "I know you do, mate."

Will looked at the bottle and accepted it, taking a long draught, attempting to wash the memories and possibilities away in a wave of alcohol.


	4. Wait for me as I wait for you

_Part four. You never know how evil I may be…_

Commodore James Norrington was dead. The news was flying through the market, through the taverns, through the mouths of gossiping women. The beloved commodore had been found dead in his quarters on the H.M.S Dauntless II and the ship's surgeon had pronounced him dead only a week previous. Messenger boys were running in and out of the governor's mansion, for that was where Mrs. Elizabeth Norrington had taken up residency with her second cousin, Governor Albert Swann. "Old Albie", as he was more commonly known, had be pronounced governor after Elizabeth's father had regrettably passed away three years previous, much to everyone's grief.

It was high noon as the butler answered the door to reveal Mr. William Turner. The blacksmith did not look a day older than forty, but the age in his eye suggested he was well over seventy. Of course, he was merely a respectable fifty-one years of age, well known by the surrounding colonies and of an upstanding reputation as well. He was dressed in a patched and frayed tailcoat with a flowing shirt underneath that might have at one time been white, and his trousers suggested he had quickly changed after a particularly long session in the smithy. Indeed, he had come as quickly as he could, having just heard the news.

He looked at the butler. "I…" He didn't know what he would have said had Elizabeth not descended the stairs, looking like a glorious angel despite the gray hairs shining through her normally glorious hair.

"Ah, Mr. Turner." She greeted him with a strained smile. Tear stains ran down her cheeks and she looked as if she hadn't slept at all. "Come, we will talk in the parlor." She sniffed with as much dignity as she could muster.

The butler stepped aside and the two adults entered the parlor and took a seat across from each other at a small, intimate table by the window. Will absentmindedly touched the petal of the wilting lily as he looked at her face. "I'm sorry." He said softly.

"Thank you." She sighed, her breath ragged. "You know I do not grieve him as a husband, as a friend." She whispered, as if speaking of a conspiracy. "He was always a good friend." She smiled slightly.

The door to the parlor opened to reveal a stunning image of James Norrington. Elizabeth stood and smiled, walking to embrace the man. Will stood up, nodding his head with respect. The man was James Norrington, Jr., who was the very image of his father in more ways than just appearance. He commanded the same respect and obedience from everyone who entered his presence, just as his father had always done. The only difference was he had Elizabeth's sense of adventure, hidden deep beneath the duty and responsibility.

"Mr. Turner." The son of Commodore Norrington sounded exactly like it. It was as if he was speaking to ghost, Will thought wryly. "Might I have a word?"

Will nodded and followed James out of the parlor. The naval officer whirled about and glared at the blacksmith. "I loved my father. You of all people could never replace him." James hissed.

Will inclined his head. "I would never aim to. He was your father." He said with respect.

"Indeed." James met Will's eyes. "With that said, I knew my mother never loved my father, never in the way he wished her to. I think my brothers and sisters and I always knew my mother… loved you." He drawled, searching for the right words. "So do as you see fit, Turner. Hurt my mother… and may God have mercy on your soul." The naval officer left him standing in the hallway, rather stunned.

"Will, what was that about?" Elizabeth inquired when Will entered the room.

"Your son issued me a rather… stern threat." He commented with a small smile, before solemnity took over, as it always did.

"You do not grieve overmuch for James." Elizabeth observed as they once again took a seat. "What is this… pain in your eyes?" She asked, tilting her head to the left.

"I… don't know." He lied.

"Yes you do." The widow before him smiled bemusedly. "Why won't you tell me?"

"You were married, Elizabeth. You have children… what I have desired for these thirty years, what I have dreamt of and wished for and what I begged God to take my life for just a moment of… it would not be right." He averted his gaze, unable to even meet her eyes.

He had always imagined their first moments, alone and free together, would have been difficult. Indeed, he was right. It was hard to the point it made him want to leave her presence and go back to his blacksmithing and put his unused love into his craft. But the anger and frustration that rolled from Elizabeth kept him seated.

"Who are you to say what is right? We have waited thirty long, hard years for this moment. I felt like a terrible mother, putting my children to bed, kissing my husband goodnight, and then sitting on the window seat, watching your silhouette into the night. I claimed to love my children, and yet I dreamt of a different life. I dreamt of you, Will!" She stood, tears flowing anew down her cheeks. "Do you remember the Black Pearl, Will? Do you remember my hand?" She pulled off her glove and showed him the faded scar.

"I remember." He admitted softly.

"I loved you even then. You loved me, too. I married another man, had another man's children, suffered the death of that man… just to be with you. Are you going to tell me that was all for naught? That my wishes of being with the only man who held my heart were empty and I suffered sleepless nights for nothing at all?"

William Turner, not for the first time, was struck dumb. He looked down at his rough hands and felt a tear drop onto his sleeve, but he quickly wiped it away. He struggled in a battle within himself. Memories of their wild adventure with Jack rushed through his mind. He remembered Jack telling him that not all treasure was silver and gold. He remembered swearing he'd die for her. He remembered all of the nights following their adventures, hoping they'd be together.

Most of all, he remembered their fervent kisses and embraces before her wedding. He remembered hearing her tell him she loved him a thousand times and he told her the same a thousand times over. That dream he had despaired over could become a reality. Why couldn't he simply accept it?

"Do you even love me at all?" Elizabeth asked, tears streaking down her perfect, shapely cheeks.


	5. Bring Me That Horizon

_Part five, everyone! Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Hey, tell me what you think. Should I write another Pirates fic or should I stick with Lord of the Rings? And either way, tell me what you think I should write about!_

A man well into his seventies tossed and turned fitfully in his light sleep. It was a habit, to sleep only what was necessary and nothing more, and most of the time less. His mind had carried the weight of anguish and pain for many years, and in his sleep, his mind forgot what had become truth and what was forgotten into the past. He sat up, quickly awakening and panted.

The woman beside him sat up, roused by her lover's movement. "What is it?"

"Nothing. Merely a dream." He waved it off, running a hand through his silver hair. "I am aging, and it is not doing my mind well." He cracked a smile.

"Will." She reprimanded him. "What was it?"

"I dreamt I was on the Pearl, sailing away from Port Royal, and James was still alive and you were happy with him." Will rubbed his eyes, groaning as he leaned against the headboard.

"I was never happy with him." Elizabeth rubbed his back. "But now… now I am happy, and you can be too. You are always so caught up in yourself." She said, leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth." He whispered. "I sometimes forget that this is reality, and not some cruel dream that I am forced to suffer through once more. I feel as if I shall awake and I will be alone again."

She took his hand and sighed. "You are awake, Will, and we're together." She kissed his cheek. "You can have a few more moments of pretending, but then stop. Loving each other is what we do best now."

"I realize now I never answered your question, the one you asked me after James had died." Will remembered with a wry smile.

"Well?" Her eyebrow arched in a true Elizabeth fashion.

"I do." He kissed her lightly on her lips. "I really do."

He watched Elizabeth fall back to sleep with a smile on her face and he looked around the darkened room. The weight of his years lifted from his soul and his shoulders, and he felt twenty years old again. Fifty years of pain was gone and he felt a strange feeling wash over him. It was peace, and it eased him into the first true sleep since the last night he spent on Jack Sparrow's ship.

Somewhere in the distance, in the bay, an ageless pirate stood aboard his beloved ship. He was a captain, in the way he stood to the ridiculous feather perched in his hat. He looked down at his compass and grinned. The moonlight glinted off of his golden teeth as he faced the sunrise. The light illuminated his curiously dark eyes and for a moment, his grin softened into a true smile, but his true nature returned as he pocketed his compass and ran a hand over the dark wood.

"Bring me that horizon."


End file.
